<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204</id><updated>2011-12-11T05:54:39.690+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hallucinations</title><subtitle type='html'>Yuki Ijuin's blog that records interesting tidbits of his daily contemplations. Mostly bordering on psychotic bits. :P</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-2538438267199586413</id><published>2009-11-27T18:53:00.024+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T01:14:19.239+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prelude to Disaster. (Teaser Post)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It was about a week ago, when suddenly I got a nudge on MSN. It was Lee, a friend of mine, who was messaging me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Lee: Weh. Lets go AFA.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Sot ar. (Are you crazy?)&lt;br /&gt;Lee: Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;Me: You pay for busfare I go.&lt;br /&gt;Lee: Can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And the deal was sealed. Some what. I whined a lot during the week about how I don't have enough money (I really didn't.) But in the end we managed to make it anyways. This is a trip that took the &lt;a href="http://thefiguremall.com/"&gt;The Figure Mall&lt;/a&gt; members about 2 months to organize and plan out, we just decided we're going within about oh... 15 seconds?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408749959872687010" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wew7NNMA34M/Sw-9boUeq6I/AAAAAAAAAB8/K_oHrTBFd3A/s400/_MG_9568.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(I shit you not, I looked like this in front of the PC all the way to Yong Peng, in fact, I believe this face remained intact for the remainder of the first day, reasons will be known later. XD)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Let's skip all the juicy details about me whining about money and hotel rooms, or my hissy fits at Lee's ulterior motive to go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So on friday night, holding the backpack that I packed the night before. I went to my English Language Centre to give the little kids a revision before their exams, and headed directly to Puduraya to catch our bus which departs at 11pm. The busride was pretty calm and peaceful except that Lee was pretty much excited out of his brains and refuses to sleep. Perhaps it was because of the Milo he drank earlier or whatnot. In the end his pacifier was my PSP, cause he forgot to bring his. The driver was pretty cool and responsible, barely over the speed limit and the ride was smooth. At around 4am or so, we reached singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/yukiijuin/4138212962/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408750843626235346" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wew7NNMA34M/Sw--PEjvpdI/AAAAAAAAACE/23Gxkrn4ErY/s400/_MG_9588.JPG" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Roaming the streets of Singapore in the wee hours of morning.)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Singapore at night is a sight to behold, silent, quiet, calm. Well, with the exception of the sheer amount of cabs going around the place. I managed to see some prostitutes hanging around in groups in some corners (Since we were kind of at the fringe of Geylang, I guess), we walked around a bit, Lee got some Unagi/Nori Jack and Jill Potato chips from a 7-11. We made our way to the McDonalds at Bugis Jt. Prolly should've listened to Lee about taking a cab to drop off our stuff at Mt Emily's Hang Out Place (Where other TFM members were residing for the night.) But I urged him to trudge on, it took us half an hour or so of walking to get to Bugis Junction cause we were moving real slowly. And another half an hour or so to reach Mt Emily after lagging in the Mcdonalds a bit. We dropped off our stuff with Taugeh, the owner of TFM and rested for a bit. At around 7:30am, we departed towards Suntec Exhibition halls to queue up for tickets into AFA09.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When we reached Suntec, we had no idea where to queue up, people were lined up all along the floor, considering the fact that it's at least a quarter mile long for our side of the balcony (The other half is an Xmas electronics fair) and the whole damn place was already flooded with people. The tickets booth doesn't even open until an hour later, the actual entry time was another hour after that. Luckily, the TFM members were already there, so we got a good spot. At around 9:30am, we got our tickets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/yukiijuin/4138213354/"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408751848114582178" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wew7NNMA34M/Sw-_JikbcqI/AAAAAAAAACM/PIL_g0ym5VA/s400/_MG_9570.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Warning, artist depiction for level of happiness. Do not take at face value)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And thus. I'm officially an AFA attendee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;And then there's this guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/yukiijuin/4138214160/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408752876933463058" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wew7NNMA34M/Sw_AFbN9vBI/AAAAAAAAACU/KrJOIX28Q28/s400/_MG_9685.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;More in my next post: AFA DAY 1!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-2538438267199586413?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/2538438267199586413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=2538438267199586413' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/2538438267199586413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/2538438267199586413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/11/prelude-to-disaster-teaser-post.html' title='Prelude to Disaster. (Teaser Post)'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wew7NNMA34M/Sw-9boUeq6I/AAAAAAAAAB8/K_oHrTBFd3A/s72-c/_MG_9568.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-4092206912615604695</id><published>2009-09-24T23:30:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T06:25:58.174+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am, a boyfriend.</title><content type='html'>In this role, I'm a boyfriend.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today. After my sole class ended at 9pm. I absentmindedly got on the buses and the trains, to get to Sunway Pyramid. The purpose was to see my girlfriend, whom I have not seen, or seriously talked to, for a month. I reached at a little over 10am. I wandered around aimlessly. Wondering what I should be doing when I finally see her again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't really need to ask myself that. When I saw her the first thing I wanted to do was to hold her in my arms. Well, not whilst still in the middle of the walkway, so we did it... in the middle of the walkway further down! XD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Having her close to me is the best feeling ever. Whenever I have her close, I really know how much I actually love her. To hold her close and not let go. To be under the bliss of being in love is a scary, yet so fulfilling. Having this feeling renewed is like being on a permanent sugar high.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always preached that to love is to unconditionally give and hope the same is true from your partner, however I've realized that I myself weren't doing that until I understood what it really meant until recently. Unconditionally giving isn't enough, you'd have to receive and appreciate what was given to you, this makes you give even more than what you can give individually. It kinds of snowballs into this giant ball of love that's almost unstoppable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks again dear. For this awesomest day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P/S: That's a lot of "loves" for one post. A record! Love you dear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-4092206912615604695?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/4092206912615604695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=4092206912615604695' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4092206912615604695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4092206912615604695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-am-boyfriend.html' title='I am, a boyfriend.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-4971415110955470208</id><published>2009-09-21T06:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T06:09:29.099+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of What, Am I?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It has been awhile since I've typed out my blogposts out on notepad first before I put it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My girlfriend was worried for me that I was tired of the relationship, that I was tired of her. I would like to dedicate some space on this little corner to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you. I can't be the gangster boyfriend with the fearless attitude; I can't be the romantic boyfriend that writes you poems; I can't be the reliable boyfriend that can give you a shoulder to cry on when you're upset; I can't be the prince that can give you accessibility to the things you'd want. I can only be myself. I'm not in any of those categories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not there when you need me; I can't help when I'm there; I never bought you anything you vocally wanted; I never wrote to you anything romantic; I'm a wimp that doesn't even dare to speak to you openly anymore. All I do is look for a corner and whimper. I'm not awesome. Not at all. To be honest I'm scared shitless everytime you mention that I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, from the first time we met; the first time you put your head on my shoulders; the first time I put my hand unto the small of your back; the first time we held hands; the first time we kissed. I felt complete. I can't be any of those things and yet you've accepted me. You are much, much more awesome than I can ever be. I'm very grateful for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many things that I've said to you before but there is always something that I've always neglected to tell you. Something far less complex than "I love you", something far less romantic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, dear. For letting me be your boyfriend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-4971415110955470208?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/4971415110955470208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=4971415110955470208' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4971415110955470208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4971415110955470208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/09/of-what-am-i.html' title='Of What, Am I?'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-9159018965237282514</id><published>2009-09-15T03:18:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T04:11:59.945+08:00</updated><title type='text'>August 25th</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'm in a slump. I know what to do, but I've lost most if not all motivation to continue. I can't believe all this is because of an unfortunate event on that date. I can't think rationally, my finances are in the dumps, I'm struggling to fit back into my college life. I can't go back to my original life of a loner. I can't go back to arcades and relief stress, it just doesn't work anymore. I can't write. I can't speak. I have no outlet. Not even this place. I'm trapped in my own rational mind, thinking up million of possibilities of what could've happened and what can happen in the future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Yet, this is not affecting me because I was chided, not because I was deemed the origin of all the problems. The fact that really hurt me was the realization that I -am- the origin of the troubles. The fact that if I didn't intrude, the circumstances of which are true now would not be. I would not be hurt by the realization that the consequences of my idiocy hurt others, especially someone so important. It serves to remind me how much of a human I am. As well as how stupid, how idiotic I am to trust emotions over the rational mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Despite reassurances. All that have happened to me was just a couple of sleepless nights and wandering minds. I have cracked someone else's family portrait, a crack that isn't easy to fill. I have caused trust to be discarded, trust that wasn't easily earned. I'm wrecked with guilt, guilt that is shared. In the end, what I've done was inexcusable, with the only saving grace being the knowledge that I am loved. I do not know for sure whether it was worth anything or even if it will be worth anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I do know however, that the choice of falling, and a perpetual one at that, is a wonderful feeling. To feel the air rush up to my face, the sound of the wind that viciously whirls by my ears, the feeling of bliss as the wind embraces my body. To lose control, to let gravity gently tug at your heart. All this, even for a moment that is pretending to be an eternity, is worth everything that I can ever have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Will I meet the ground?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I love you dear. I don't know how long this moment will last, but as long as it continues to will itself to be an eternity. I shall continue to love you, for an eternity, however short or long that may be. We'll be together soon. I'll keep that as a reminder, to wait till the wind sweeps me up again. This time, you'll be in my arms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-9159018965237282514?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/9159018965237282514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=9159018965237282514' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/9159018965237282514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/9159018965237282514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/09/august-25th.html' title='August 25th'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-6934737252717516337</id><published>2009-08-24T02:54:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T03:50:02.113+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anonymity</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;For a big portion of my life I've lived in anonymity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Anonymity is a shield to me but it also hinders growth via retrospection and observation alike.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I am interested in learning what makes people tick. In learning what have made them grow, what had shaped them. I am interested in knowing their experiences their various connotative understanding of their world. It would be a privilege, if a friend had let me into their world, especially if the motive is known to be just plain curiousity. I deny people that privilege to do so on myself because I keep myself relatively anonymous. I ended up denying even myself to have that privilege of seeing how myself grown as a person through my experience too. I suppose my mind has done a much too thorough job of shielding myself from my own stupidity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I believe it's this distance that gifts me my rationality. However is it also this distance that well, distances me from an actual relationship. Let's just hope it's not too late to learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-6934737252717516337?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/6934737252717516337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=6934737252717516337' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/6934737252717516337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/6934737252717516337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/08/anonymity.html' title='Anonymity'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-7655786336848301646</id><published>2009-06-12T12:44:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T03:52:27.505+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 2 - Prologue</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Congratulations!" Flashed on Yuki's Nintendo DS Lite console. It was the 4th time the screen had shown the word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Yuki was playing Tetris on the steps at the front of the monorail station in Times Square. It was a full hour after the appointed time to meet up. He noted dully that it took him 15 minutes to finish a game of Tetris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;He sat on the steps, coldly calculating. There were nothing to calculate, he didn't know where she lived, her number or even whether she is showing up. Originally he was a little agitated, but he gave it due thought and consideration. He has decided to wait, it was the most worthwhile wait he has ever endured. He didn't know what transpired to cause the delay. So he figured there were no point in getting angry over nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;He walked calmly away from the monorail station. He intended to head to his usual hangout - The Arcade. Phone firmly held in hand, expecting a call at anytime. He walked, away from the designated rendezvous point. He felt guilty, but he knew he could get back there within a few minutes if needed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;On the way. The phone rang. One hand on the driving wheel of the game he was playing. Yuki picked up the phone. A young lady's voice was on the other end. She sounded ragged as if she was made to run. He abandoned his game to head back towards where they were supposed to meet. His mind worrying about what might have happened to make her acquaintance to be so exasperated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman';"&gt;&lt;div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;He recalled a line from the conversation, "I'm errr... on the other side of the road?". Faint cracking lined the words, along with noise of vehicles moving along, sounds of tyres screeching on the tarmac like a bow and violin in an inexperienced player's hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;*Beep* The line was cut off. Yuki futilely tried to call back to the number displayed on his cellphone, but everytime it connects, the same beep is heard. He was caught without ideas.&lt;br /&gt;"Where was the origin of the call?" He thought deeply. The second call came, a brief talk, a slight description of where she was. And... nothing. He grew impatient and started trodding along the length of the monorail station of which he was at. The shopkeepers busy tending to their stalls, preparing for the day ahead; looked at Yuki with eyes of curiousity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A third call. Her location was known. "Seven-Eleven." She said urgently. He felt that the line would be cut off again and it did. He wasted no time, he thought hard to find out where she might be. Then it hit him. The calls never lasted for longer than 60 seconds; it is not reachable when he calls back. She was using coins for a payphone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;He was right. He saw her making calls at a payphone. On the escalator down to the street she's standing at, he noticed how worried she was because of her lateness, how she was fumbling for the coins, the concerned way she put down the receiver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;She went towards the direction of the Seven-Eleven mentioned earlier. Yuki assumed it was for more coins to operate the payphone. Not wanting to increase her agitation, he went into the store with her, in time to stop her from being jilted by an increasingly annoyed store attendant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;More to come later. &gt;_&lt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-7655786336848301646?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/7655786336848301646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=7655786336848301646' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/7655786336848301646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/7655786336848301646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/06/placeholder.html' title='Chapter 2 - Prologue'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-4350572083347141748</id><published>2009-06-12T12:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T12:32:40.469+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Current life updates.</title><content type='html'>I successfully enrolled in college, currently in my 2nd month where all the quizzes, midterms start rolling in as well as the final assignments for the respective subjects.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Studying in UCSI. University College Sedaya International. Very long name; content, not so much. Students are averagely... average.  While the lecturers are mostly the same. However, this is my foundation year. Where everything is cakewalk and students are still getting spoonfed. There are many students with unrealized potentials. Therefore only time will tell what will happen in the future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for myself, barely scraping by. Still living fine. So no worries there. As long as I still have my spark of insanity in me. I shall never actually go crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-4350572083347141748?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/4350572083347141748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=4350572083347141748' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4350572083347141748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4350572083347141748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/06/current-life-updates.html' title='Current life updates.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-7490096805711203534</id><published>2009-05-07T22:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T22:57:20.268+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 1 - Snapshots.</title><content type='html'>For you dear. What I promised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're cute."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phrase repeated itself perpetually in Yuki's mind as he was walking up a hill with a mild gradient; grass and trees, both young and husks lined the street on both sides. The bright sin's radiant heat created mirages not far off from his position, they remained forever fixated, moving with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're cute."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I like you, alot." She whispered timidly into Yuki's ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took him courage to rouse from a corpse-like state, to place his hand unto her waist after an eternity of inner turmoil and doubt. One that his companion of the day seems to have disregarded long ago. Her warmth seeped into him. He held her closer. Resting his head on top of hers which laid on his shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I like you, alot." Repeated in his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I would like to hold your hand again." he whispered to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus' engine roared on the ramp leading unto the highway. He was on his way to meet her again. At a shopping complex that he has not visited for a long time. Insecurity laced his mind. The passengers were few and uninteresting, Yuki decided to turn his gaze to the fast moving street. His interest at the passing trees and cars waned as the words weighted in his mind heavily. Eyelids lowered, he contemplated the words carefully. It carried a promise, for her; for himself. A promise that requested for a future when it was uncertain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to hold your hand again." His silent mutterings carried away by the noise of the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I miss you." a message appeared in the conversational window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The title in the taskbar flashed incessantly. The message was simple and clear. She missed him. He missed her too even though he was chatting with her on his computer seat. Moreover, he missed her touch; her hands; her smell, when she rested her head on his shoulder. The cursor pointed towards the flashing title, the window appeared; The cursor flashing, begging for input.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I miss you too." he typed in with a smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-7490096805711203534?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/7490096805711203534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=7490096805711203534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/7490096805711203534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/7490096805711203534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/05/chapter-1-snapshots.html' title='Chapter 1 - Snapshots.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-4599391314662919555</id><published>2009-05-02T04:20:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T04:43:37.228+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I liked.</title><content type='html'>The kisses. Well, generally everything that happened on Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Touching your hair and jolting you when I ended the call. Holding your hand again, browsing odd stuff in Action City. Getting lost looking for MPH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way you supported me when I asked you to be my girlfriend, I know I asked before, but when we were face to face it was a lot harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How you didn't mind me not being romantic nor strong enough that I actually told you I have no idea how long it might last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not giving a fuck about that old uncle across the lounge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first kiss outside Haagen Daaz, playing traffic lights with the shoppers, and then not giving a fuck about them in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holding your hand more, walking around randomly, the kiss near the weird suspended cola can in river. Going back to MPH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Using books as an excuse to stay close and hobo'ing at that corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More kisses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The test of trust between us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throwing away books completely to snuggle, playing with your petite hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having my world spin round and round by your antics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The taste of your lips, mouth and even braces. The smell in your hair, nuzzling your neck, your petite frame, your delicate hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-4599391314662919555?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/4599391314662919555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=4599391314662919555' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4599391314662919555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4599391314662919555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/05/just-whoah.html' title='I liked.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-3015589770289084466</id><published>2009-04-27T02:12:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T02:47:17.612+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I like a dress.</title><content type='html'>First and foremost, let's clear this up. I'm not gay. I'm just an optimistically objective person, I try to see what things are on their grounds. If a boy looks cute. (Like it is shown &lt;a href="http://ameblo.jp/easylabyrinth/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, yes, that's a boy.) I will say he looks cute. I won't reel back in horror with the knowledge that he has the male genitalia. He's cute, but I won't hit it. Am I clear on this? I appreciate the fact that he's cute. That's enough. No need to go anywhere else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile. I'm blogging about this dress because I would like to remember it. I will, and yes, -WILL- secure one of it in the future, for a loved one. I will not, in any case, secure it when it does not have a chance to be on someone I love. Or if I do have the extra cash from some sort of weird chance occurence. I will buy in to have it wait for it's proper owner. Yes, I like the dress that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.blogger.com/%20http://i235.photobucket.com/albums/ee182/LilithMists/image176.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 387px;" src="http://i235.photobucket.com/albums/ee182/LilithMists/image176.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.blogger.com/%20http://i235.photobucket.com/albums/ee182/LilithMists/image196.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 387px;" src="http://i235.photobucket.com/albums/ee182/LilithMists/image196.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're from a Japanese lolita fashion company named Victorian Maiden, aptly named, I'm sure you'd agree, as the dress is very much inspired from the Victorian era of immaculate details and lots, lots, and lots, of frills. Doesn't contain as much ribbons or laces as I'd like it to be, but this also means the dress is not cluttered and oozes elegance. Just, perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, these dresses are extremely costly, perhaps not as much as designer apparel, but this particular dressed is priced at 24k yen. That's about 800 Ringgit Malaysia. Still very achievable, and much sought after by aficionados of all nationalities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S: The red, of which I have picked out from &lt;a href="http://www.victorianmaiden.com/shopping/dress/ophelia-op.html"&gt;a choice of three&lt;/a&gt;, is no longer available. I believe when I visited the site back when I was 15, the red version of this dress is also sold out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-3015589770289084466?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/3015589770289084466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=3015589770289084466' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/3015589770289084466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/3015589770289084466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-like-dress.html' title='I like a dress.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-2897887097550628894</id><published>2009-03-19T20:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T20:38:22.282+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update on progress.</title><content type='html'>Assasin's Creed&lt;br /&gt;GRID&lt;br /&gt;Sid Meier's Civilizations 4&lt;br /&gt;Silent Hill Homecoming.&lt;br /&gt;Prince of Persia&lt;br /&gt;Tomb Raider: Underworld&lt;br /&gt;World of Goo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Games I've finished&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pure &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Published by Disney, good for distractions, nice sense of over-the-top racing, a little repetitive and isn't as good as SSX)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Burnout Paradise&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Bustling city, with the 24hours patch it becomes a living one, actual immersion blending nicely with over the top action and speed. becomes repetitive about 20 hours in, overall amazing arcade racer.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dead Space&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Flying limbs everywhere, a rare good scifi horror game, shocks become infrequent close to the end of the game, scares become routine. Overall good game, confusing storyline.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Call of Duty: World at War&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Overall good game, exact same formula as COD4:MW minus some points, Nazi Zombie bonus mission very awesome, even when alone.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Mirror's Edge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Amazing visuals, has occasional hiccups, but overall great game.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six: Vegas 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Effing hard. Also, I found the 360 controller more forgiving. Great game for it's time, non linear.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Games I gave up on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;DMC4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Backtracking is surprisingly tedious and unfortunately boring, even with badass Dante. It might've been good in RE2, but that's a design about 8 years old)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;The Club.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Strictly Multiplayer experience. Single player is so-so. Not very worthwhile.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm putting in comments for the games I've played now. As a reminder of why I liked and disliked certain games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silent Hill:Homecoming is on hold until a good graphics patch comes out for the game, or an unofficial fix. Currently trying to finish Prince of Persia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-2897887097550628894?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/2897887097550628894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=2897887097550628894' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/2897887097550628894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/2897887097550628894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/03/update-on-progress.html' title='Update on progress.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-7761693606911132304</id><published>2009-03-05T23:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T23:08:53.825+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Revised Games-to-be-completed List.</title><content type='html'>Just as a reminder for myself. These are dire times, there are too many games for me to complete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assasin's Creed&lt;br /&gt;Devil May Cry 4&lt;br /&gt;GRID&lt;br /&gt;Sid Meier's Civilizations 4&lt;br /&gt;Silent Hill Homecoming.&lt;br /&gt;The Club&lt;br /&gt;Prince of Persia&lt;br /&gt;Tomb Raider: Underworld&lt;br /&gt;World of Goo&lt;br /&gt;Call of Duty: World at War&lt;br /&gt;Mirror's Edge&lt;br /&gt;Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six: Vegas 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Games I've finished&lt;br /&gt;Pure&lt;br /&gt;Burnout Paradise&lt;br /&gt;Dead Space&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Games I gave up on.&lt;br /&gt;DMC4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at that HUMONGOUS LIST!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not even including the PSP games I have in my PSP or the NDS games I have in my NDSL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-7761693606911132304?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/7761693606911132304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=7761693606911132304' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/7761693606911132304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/7761693606911132304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/03/revised-games-to-be-completed-list.html' title='Revised Games-to-be-completed List.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-6813795270038814618</id><published>2009-02-28T13:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T14:38:16.161+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SG Trip. Summarized.</title><content type='html'>My earlier post mentioned that I only had two purpose for the Singapore Trip. I shall now report like the dedicated journalist I am. Ain't it obvious from the state of frequent updates of this blog? *Ba-dum-dum-plish*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 1! Out of the 3 Arcade machines that has uber amounts of potential to sap my pockets dry during the trip, the only one that I've discovered costed less than all other stuff I've played in their arcades. I've managed to find Deathsmiles, thanks to my aquaintance. Review of Deathsmiles coming up after all my reports. BlazBlue is nowhere to be found. Perhaps due to the overwhelming presence of SFIV and Tekken 6. DJMAX technika would've stuck out like a really sore thumb, so it isn't there. Or it might've been shrunk to a molecular size where I can't find it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the arcades section. I've tried out DDRX. It's still as americanized as the last time I saw it, the major turnoff for me was Candy without lyrics, and the fact that Breakdown was not on the list. I was sad after realizing that and stopped playing. I've also tried out and sucked at Espagaluda, but I'll definitely play it again for the sheer amount of blood the game gives the players. It's pretty copious for a shmup. Lastly, my beatmania skills downgraded, I suspect it's partly due to overstraining my left hand, which resulted in my left index and middle fingers being numb for 3 days. I nearly thought I had Carpal Tunnel, but from a self diagnostic the symptoms were inconsistent with the ones associated with CTS. Thanks Soo-Ann for the information on the diagnostic tests, you rock, and hope you do extremely well in your exams, enough to cut a year or so of being an in-house. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to the above, I've also had the privilege of meeting some very good Wangan Midnight Maximum Tune 3DX players. As well as acquiring a present card to tryout the new MX-5 introduced in this iteration. Throughout battles and several hours of observation, I've gained a great amount of insight as to improving my own play level. Thanks to Maya for introducing me to them, they're friggin' awesome, as are you, Maya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 2! &lt;a href="http://i235.photobucket.com/albums/ee182/LilithMists/CosafeSG.jpg"&gt;Cosafe&lt;/a&gt; was pretty kewl. From the picture in the link to the left, there's still a Malay(?) girl that wasn't in the picture. But does it really matter? The two Malay girls that works there seems more likely to be temps, since their uniforms are standard and seems nothing out of the ordinary. Either that, or the opposite is true. BTW, my favourite one was the one on the far left, she seems to have her own fan, since my aquaintance seemed to have noticed a certain foreigner only wants to be served by her. The blue ribbon was a nice touch I like attention to details (Her underskirt was red checkers. Contrast.), although I don't think you'd see it in the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've noticed, that the standard skirts are actually layerred, so they hike up when they bend over a little, just like the ones in mangas. Results were the two Malay(?) girls wearing shorts. Which were surprisingly long since they're actually visible even when they're standing straight. I've had a pretty great time there. Since I've been accompanied by an interesting person. Oddly I didn't pay as much attention as I thought I would on the waitresses, which seems to be the whole point of the cafe... Isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Price of the place seems reasonable. As long as you stick to coffee and starve. Food is adequately priced for a cafe in a high-end city area (Not to mention this is a novelty cafe). Coffee and Steamed Milk seems to be cheap, considering they're actually cheaper than Starbucks to a certain degree. Alcohol is extremely overpriced in my opinion, regular cocktails were at least 30 dollars. I'm glad I don't drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I honestly do not know their race, they're not chinese, neither do they look too indonesian, in the end, I have to settle with modernized Malays.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-6813795270038814618?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/6813795270038814618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=6813795270038814618' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/6813795270038814618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/6813795270038814618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/02/sg-trip-summarized.html' title='SG Trip. Summarized.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-4932716518783950165</id><published>2009-02-22T15:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T16:12:05.645+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Risk.</title><content type='html'>No, not the boardgame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was playing Ketsui on my DS the other day. It's a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shmup"&gt;Shmup&lt;/a&gt;, an arcade styled bullet hell/curtain shmup. As training for my debut with DeathSmiles. Utterly sucking at Ketsui's Very Hard course, I started thinking about what drives me and other people who are into shmups. I can't speak for the veterans, who are absolutely crazy and deserves lots of hentai art for their surprising amount of finger finesse, but I can speak for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think risk plays a significant major factor here. From the original Space Invaders, we are encouraged to rush the game, since the last few aliens would tentatively move faster as time passes, as well as speeding up significantly the closer it reaches you until the point where they can't be shot, and you die. There's just that much more sastifaction from squeezing that last shot off before they or their shots, or their kamikaze nosedive, reaches you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This evolved. Free movement was invented. Instead of just sitting there waiting for your death ala Asteroid, you've been granted control over the ships movement, ensuring that you play a much larger part in ensuring your own survival. It fed our desire to be in control and played to our fears of losing. In the end it's a seamless combination of both, with the sastifaction of just plain surviving and sustaining yourself, that drives people to continue playing shmups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shmups, after the point of Gradius. was even more gratifying, not only do you get to have control, fear as well as adrenaline to survive, you also get great gratification from bosses. The large nemesis that you are forced to take down after every hair chewing, nail biting stage. The resultant is 2 minutes of even more hair chewing and nail biting, because the bosses are so huge, and obviously overpowering, it feels like you're trying to topple an empire (Built with guns, all firing bullets at you, alone). This serves to positively reinforce the player to continue rather than slump over exhausted. Almost in a self contradicting way. Imagine fighting a leopard in a coliseum and then asking for a tiger. It doesn't make sense, but it sure feels good if you manage to kill it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the extreme forms, almost like cocaine, popped out. Bullet Hells, the arcade variation of Danmaku. Involved raining projectiles on you, challenging you to weave yourself in and out of the trouble, navigating a maze of several pixels thick, of abnormal dimensions and shape, just purely out of the will to survive a session of the game. This proved to be an extreme concept that completes the whole package, I don't think the games' design gets more primal than that. The games gets more advanced in terms of graphics, mechanics, complexity, but the most basic of our mindset, survival, makes it all the more gratifying the harder it is. As long as it doesn't border on unfairness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the more advanced our shmups have become, the more estranged are the laymen who doesn't know how to play, because if they lack the ability to survive for a decent amount of time, before the gratification arrives, they basically can't see the point of continuing, therefore abandoning all efforts to continue playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps then, in the future, there will be more games that emulate Geometry Wars' success, combining frantic pace, advanced features, as well as letting the players gain gratification, just enough to continue to play; just enough to convince themselves that they can survive. Maybe, the shmup genre will receive new blood in their userbase as well as game variety. To continue the chain of evolution in this particular strain of games.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-4932716518783950165?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/4932716518783950165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=4932716518783950165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4932716518783950165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4932716518783950165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/02/risk.html' title='Risk.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-1891623641800584065</id><published>2009-02-20T21:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:33:31.369+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Games to look out for in SG</title><content type='html'>I'll be heading to SG for a one/two day hiatus. Actually it's for gaming, I've been itching for a round of Beatmania IIDX 16 DJ TROOPERS and the crowd's attention so I want to go to Bugis Jt to get some beatgame fun. Or Plaza Singapura...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, this will also be a spelunking opportunity for me to check if SG received any good games that deserves good attention. DJMAX Technika being one of them, BlazBlue: Calamity Trigger is also something I would like to see on one of their cabinets. Lastly, if I see Deathsmiles in their arcades I can't assure that I won't jizz in my pants. Which would be a social faux pas since I will supposedly be walking about arcades accompanied by an arcade racing game vet. One that has proven to be very much friendlier than the Malaysian counterparts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note. Last time I was in SG, which was in Dec, I've had 2 occasions where I was alone with a female friend, going on activities that vaguely resemble a casual date. Meanwhile, in Msia I have had no similar experience (Or no experience similar to that of the trip in SG). Whenever I do ask, usually I get thrown a lemon. There must be something going on here. Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I also want to check out that Maid CosCafe around the Raffles City area. I'm sure the coffee will rip burning holes in my pockets the size of jupiter's moons. But meh, I'm still being served by people who get paid for wearing victorian maid inspired dresses (That's Laces and Frills, two of my favourites accessories in female attires) Perhaps I need to check if I need to pay for pictures. Cause if I do have to pay, my pockets will be gone altogether. Maybe I can get my female accompaniment to have a drink there. Hopefully it won't end with Iced Lemon Tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh BTW, Malaysian arcade vets are 50% pricks. 40% that treats other players with indifference (I belong in there, depending on the game) and the last 10% are kids who somehow are able to excel at the game. They deserve a spot. Nice guys in arcades are rarely found, if they ever existed in the first place. Literate people in arcades are even more rare. It has something to do with images of arcades in my nation, but it's hard for me to go into detail without creating another entry, perhaps next time then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-1891623641800584065?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/1891623641800584065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=1891623641800584065' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/1891623641800584065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/1891623641800584065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/02/games-to-look-out-for-in-sg.html' title='Games to look out for in SG'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-3021199227317827793</id><published>2009-02-19T09:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T09:11:20.563+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Srsly</title><content type='html'>Who are you and why did you invade my blog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just joking. Always glad there's someone here, even though there's not much for these someone's to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you've noticed, I don't update my blog often, because I never made any commitments. Unfortunately, this blog will remain this way unless I can actually find a method to generate revenue off this place, then I'd start blogging for my life, since it'll be considered a job. Most of the articles here are mainly personal anecdotes, testimonials as well as pseudophilosophy, kindly do not take them too seriously. However, when I blog about something, it will be something I feel strongly about, not just "I had a cake this morning", so rest assured that anything recorded here are major events or thoughts that have haunted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been catching up with gaming lately, have to finish the following list of games:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assasin's Creed&lt;br /&gt;Burnout Paradise&lt;br /&gt;Dead Space&lt;br /&gt;Devil May Cry 4&lt;br /&gt;GRID&lt;br /&gt;Pure&lt;br /&gt;Sid Meier's Civilizations 4.&lt;br /&gt;Silent Hill Homecoming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike blogging, I dedicate a lot of time to gaming, so you can imagine what I'll be busy with for these next few weeks. If I do find anything interesting though, I'll let someone(s) know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-3021199227317827793?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/3021199227317827793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=3021199227317827793' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/3021199227317827793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/3021199227317827793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/02/srsly.html' title='Srsly'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-4444689641101934174</id><published>2009-02-13T10:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T10:27:25.800+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Revived.</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;*Insert cue for awkward laugh*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still here! (ba-dum-dum-plish)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That wasn't really a punchline, was it? More like a line that will get you punched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that dreadful year working with a call centre, I've decided to call it quits when my contract expiry came up, I'm now official a NEET (Not engaged in Employment, Education or Training). I heard they're in fashion nowadays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got my first birthday cake this year, there weren't any candles, or singing, or wishing, but it was my first birthday cake that I've gotten for my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll take some of that NEET time to work on this blog. Let me see what I can do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-4444689641101934174?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/4444689641101934174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=4444689641101934174' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4444689641101934174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4444689641101934174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2009/02/revived.html' title='Revived.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-857127250773738119</id><published>2008-06-22T06:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T06:34:23.549+08:00</updated><title type='text'>OverWerks</title><content type='html'>Crazy, crazy, crazy week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sunday over here in Malaysia, and I'll be staying over at my workplace, trying to clear the backlog of tasks. I didn't take a day off in the last 6 days, even though I did take it easy on my assigned off days which is Thursday and Friday. Today will be the death of me. If my efficiency doesn't go up at least a dozen notches above "Crappy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, please allow me to elaborate. I just happen to be working for a Company in Singapore that deals with CableTV. I'm a Call Centre Agent, or those fancy terms like Customer Care Consultant/Customer Service Representative. When you're in this line, you've basically trapped yourself in an Iron Maiden, the nasty ones with the spikes that pierces you when the doors are closed on you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that most Malaysians, or Asians for that matter, would've noticed that there's a football event going on right now, it's called Euro 2008. This is my first La Petite Mort, and no, it isn't about orgasms, I died a little inside. When you work at a call centre, you are expected to try and get as many items done as possible within a certain timeframe. Originally we managed to take all 2500 calls offered before the event started, we thought everything was alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came the event, being the natural procrastinators we all are, we were ill prepared. Thousands of calls came pouring in starting from the few days before the event itself, requesting for the Pay Per View event, causing havoc all around the call floor. The word Euro 2008, if audited, should've been said at least a million times in the duration of that few days, if not more. We were getting on average 5 thousand calls and more for that week, far exceeding my own expectations, the catch is, we only have the capacity for 3 thousand, at most. If the definition of hell weren't flaming and sodomy, I would've thought it'll be thousands of Singaporeans banging on your doors (Or screaming at the phone), to get you to give them football.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, I hate football.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the above event had a significant impact, a very negative one. Staffs are overworked, tired of the mundaneness of dealing with customers hungry for sweaty men on a field chasing a ball. Team morale was on an all-time low due to not being able to foresee any tropical rest islands beyond the waves in the sea of work. We have no idea when we will be heading back to shore. Since May 12, the date the price for the Pay Per View event changed due to an expired promotion, we were all a little dead inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continued soon... Sorries, need to head off to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-857127250773738119?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/857127250773738119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=857127250773738119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/857127250773738119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/857127250773738119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2008/06/overwerks.html' title='OverWerks'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-6285910124976926153</id><published>2008-06-14T22:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T22:39:14.908+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Kamelot. Her... Lips...</title><content type='html'>ALLEN WALKER. YOU BASTARD!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-6285910124976926153?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/6285910124976926153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=6285910124976926153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/6285910124976926153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/6285910124976926153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2008/06/road-kamelot-her-lips.html' title='Road Kamelot. Her... Lips...'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-660838736312064631</id><published>2008-06-05T15:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T16:07:38.973+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons</title><content type='html'>I'm pretty sure anyone with an eye or more should be able to see that this blog is almost deserted, posts take months to be updated, no one leave comments etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to change that. However, I've finally realized things that I should have years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no material.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To an artist, nothing pains him so much as to give him inspiration and nothing to draw on. In my case, I have thoughts, words to be spoken. However, no method in preserving them. Therefore you don't see my posts being recollection of memories, because I am incapable. My posts are mere contemplations on recollections. Something anyone with an imagination can do. I have put thoughts into words many times before, however I have not found a solution to one very simple problem a friend pointed out by a penetrating gaze through my works. I think fast, but I write slow. In addition to that, the barrage of thoughts in my head is usually cluttered and unorganized. Hence you see poorly structured sentences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get derailed easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I write with pen and paper, pencil would be the best, because I enjoy solitude when I use those tools, be it in my own room or a table in a public place. For blog posts, I use my computer. When I use my computer, I can compose a simple prose, only to have it ruined because outsiders are disturbing me. As I type this, 5 minutes ago I was going to write something about Transcience and Ephemeral elements of life. Now I'm ranting. Because I was disturbed. Honestly, if I weren't disturbed by a family member, I'd have shouted profanities. My logical train of thought moves quickly, therefore, derailment is much more severe when it happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To humble any author, put him in a library. I couldn't agree more. I have read pretty much anything from casual compositions to elaborately woven stories of dragons and knights. I find my own writings absolutely horrendous. I believe that horrendous is an understatement. At times I struggle for adjectives, punctuations, even adverbs. This kind of sloppiness should not be tolerated. Even if this is the internet, there's still standards. Being Malaysian doesn't mean I can get away with a lower standard in english. It simply does not work. I cannot lie to myself. Stop telling me I have good english. I don't. As many times I try to convince myself that my english is better than my peers, the same amount of times I would look at fictional stories by other members of the intellectual society and weep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In many cases. This is the case. I would end up contradicting myself. In the end it's all bullshit. That's all I'm going to say on this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you've been wondering why I do not update the blog frequently, there you go. Reasons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-660838736312064631?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/660838736312064631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=660838736312064631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/660838736312064631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/660838736312064631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2008/06/reasons.html' title='Reasons'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-5387561233649484881</id><published>2008-02-08T15:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T16:06:09.718+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sharing.</title><content type='html'>I always thought that sharing is for good things like love and money and happiness and crap. Then I realized how selfish people are and that they usually horde those things to themselves. Fortunately I realize that other people are more than glad to share those that aren't theirs. Money from others is thriftly spent, happiness from others is prompt spread, love from others is quickly abused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it's when I realized also that negative aspects of human emotions are also shared as easily. Also, the same rules apply. The victim of any misfortune are usually glad of and understanding they might get and are held down and fastened to their current reality of depression or unhappiness, but the friends and relatives of the victims are usually not burdened by such thoughts, therefore spreading around ways of which to cope. Usually not to the victims, but to the people in the immediate area. Which makes any victim's relatives or friends the targeted area of a tactical nuclear strike that induces all weird ailments starting from depression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prefer to keep quiet and restrain the radioactive area to fan out. Doing practical things rather than just talking about it. Next time you see someone being robbed, give the guy a pat on the back, buy him a bottle of water and let him drink and cool down significantly. Then you've helped enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just my way of showing my support. That's all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-5387561233649484881?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/5387561233649484881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=5387561233649484881' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/5387561233649484881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/5387561233649484881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2008/02/sharing.html' title='Sharing.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-903902078113361768</id><published>2007-11-09T18:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T18:40:13.470+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Recently.</title><content type='html'>Thank another you for another lone comment. I have opened the comments section for all anonymous and known users as per your observative judgement has advised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I've actually asked someone if she would oppose to me trying to win her favour. Permission for courtship, if you'd prefer. It ended horrendously, at least on my side of the thing. It was a subtle rejection, we could still be friends and nothing was ruined. Until 6th of November, Tuesday. Curious? Let's put that on the backburner for a bit while I rattle off to other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The examinations for senior highschool is here. 2 more days and I think I have to start writing apology letters to my parents for having failed them miserably. Looking on the bright side, I might not fail entirely and get several A's. Not the amount specified for a Nobel Prize or a scholarship to Cambridge but it will do, explicitly for me and me alone. I wish all those who will be sitting for these examinations all good wishes and best of health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized what friends were for in the weeks preceding these forthcoming exams. There are not there for you to fall back on in case of emotional breakdowns, they're not meant for that. Neither are they pillars on which you can base your palace of moralities on. Nope. They're there because they're there. Because we are all alone at heart, we desire companionship. Simple but unrealized fact. However, I shall warn any potential readers, that the more we dwell on the fact that we seek companionship, the more painful our existance become. Tis' an elastic relationship we are looking at. The more we think we don't really need companions, the harder the truth hits that we actually need companions. I'm now trapped.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-903902078113361768?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/903902078113361768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=903902078113361768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/903902078113361768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/903902078113361768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2007/11/recently.html' title='Recently.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-6224850357397833724</id><published>2007-09-08T15:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T15:09:27.824+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Polaric.</title><content type='html'>Once again, the polaric vision that I have disclosed earlier (Very much so, around a year back.) Seems particularly true (When responding to myself, a larger sample space was unavailable to me.) when the matter of human social interactions are concerned. The idea of cognitive mental capabilities state that people classes quantitatives (e.g humans, objects or speech) into sub-groups that can be identified by the person in question. With humans it is criterions such as skin color, language and/or/notwithstanding to actions. However, I have found articulation in particular especially engaging. Though I personally rarely engage in idle chatter, I have found that even idle chatter is classified into sub-groups, perhaps unconsciously. Glimpses of these characterizations are noticeable if attention is concentrated (via introspection, although not perfect, is the only method available to me.) when speaking or listening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This means that I'm adding to my earlier thinking of working with polaric versions of reality. Instead of polaric extremes, it is safe to assume that reality belongs in sub-groups according to enviromental or psychological factors. With enviromental factors being culture, social standards or generally accepted biases and psychological being an egocentric methology of grouping according to personal understanding (either shaped or unshaped by the enviroment.). What this changes, is the whole idea of exptreme polarity in thinking, yet maintaining a central and needed section of it: The inexistance of a grey area. With this newfound generality, there might be a reason for me to remember exactly the words and tones used in important conversations for intro or retropection in order to find something intricate in human nature of thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The process of thought is not as simple as anyone thinks it is, no one even knows if thinking and learning is explainable in biological or behaviouristic means. All we can do is to hold on to our existing beliefs and hope for more empirical evidence which doesn't explain a whole lot. Not that much of the general public care for evidence, we are a gullible lot that put beliefs without evidence (also known as "faith") in front of those with evidence and exclaims their overwhelming righteousness (of their own experiences) without checking their integrity as a whole. Yet we remain ignorant of this most basic of facts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mayhaps it is better to be ignorant, to be unwary of ignorance, to be woefully binded with earthly worries. What are we but organisms which only ultimate goal is to survive and triumph in our own social class. How does the scientists that do not realize their impact in the future continue to do research that benefits no one of that period? No one knows, I do not want to know either. Perhaps fueled by anger, fear of losing or self-realization. Maybe it's just the need to know, the curiousity that killed many proverbial cats. For me, it's all the above.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-6224850357397833724?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/6224850357397833724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=6224850357397833724' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/6224850357397833724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/6224850357397833724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2007/09/polaric.html' title='Polaric.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-6422454527352676845</id><published>2007-09-08T15:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T15:08:45.535+08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Assasin's Creed Part Deux.</title><content type='html'>This was made to simply test how easy it is to switch settings for a same activity. Not more than 50 words were changed or added. Assasination is still the activity, but it is now a modern setting. If more elaboration was in the previous version I'm pretty sure it'll be harder to convert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My undershirt sticked to my back from the perspiration, my breathing heavy, my chest rising and falling rapidly. On the contuary, I was ready. Carefully, my fingers slid out to caress the trigger, the stock firmly in contact with my shoulder. Too predictable, a held rifle must be firmly fixed in place, all covers are restricted to the range. Too limited was my choices, too obvious my line of attack. This would be my last kill with such an dangerous method. I was to be accepted into a circle in which my life would start anew. My excitement laid with this vision, a vision that would be realized after this one and final kill. I felt my hand clutching the stock with excitement, my breathing steadied, my heart stopped. I looked through the scope, identified my target once more and pulled the trigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moon shone lightly on the speeding bullet before it entered sharply into the neck of an elite guard. No sound came from his mouth, shock had not reached his facial expressions, the bullet had severed the guard's trachea and larynx, cutting off all nerve signals to the brain. A successful kill, had any sound escaped from his mouth, any sudden jerks of movement, I would've failed, my creed broken, my esteem shattered. I would accept no less from myself. The final deed was complete, the petty kills will not continue for any longer. Before anybody even noticed the missing guard, I would have wiped away all traces, Even a slight detail such as perspiration will not be overlooked. I shall be perfect. For all my previous kills was. For I know, from this point on, there cannot be any more imperfections, any slight mistake, none that I have done before, will kill me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left without haste, the only evidence of my existence being that deadly wound on my victim's neck. It would've been usual practice to hid the body, I would not have liked the attention showered onto it. No dead body needed the attention. But tonight, the purpose would be different, this body would mark the beginning of a series of killings, one that would strike fear unto my future targets. Fear, it seems, is very effective in destroying common logic, which makes the hunt so much more interesting, challenging. Fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On this night, a new perfect assasin was born.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-6422454527352676845?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/6422454527352676845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=6422454527352676845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/6422454527352676845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/6422454527352676845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2007/09/assasins-creed-part-deux.html' title='An Assasin&apos;s Creed Part Deux.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-206286256315639070</id><published>2007-08-02T14:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T14:04:13.775+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fools.</title><content type='html'>Whoa! If you can see me now I'm pretty sure you'll be disgusted. I'm licking a popsicle (in an effeminate way :P) with no shirt on and perspiring pretty badly. Well... no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today. Class, we're gonna talk about the effects of the heat haze on human minds. Point one, it drives people crazy. Point across. Lesson done. Close, but not quite. It's interesting how a slight chill could gift the thought of ghosts appearance to people, or how a hotter-than-normal day makes people curse (most of the time their own deed.) the irresponsible earthlings for global warming. The interesting part about all this is, they do no part of thinking nor questioning when these thoughts escape from their mouths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might not notice it, you might not even admit it, but your mind is very fallible. Don't believe it? Let me rephrase. The brain, yours and also mine, are fallible. Still not convinced? Hey, lemme tell you something, it is researched by psychologists that the human mind is very fallible. Still don't understand? The different phrasing used directly tells your brain what to believe. Because everyone has an ego they won't let go, the first attempt was not so convincing. Because I've put myself on the line, the second attempt sounds slightly more convincing, but nonetheless a personal remark or comment. The 3rd attempt is close to a jackpot, as I've claimed it was researched by psychologists, a non-common thing to study about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point of the previous paragraph was evident, the human mind is undoubtedly infinitely fallible, especially in fields where we lack understanding of. We rely on relayed information, be it true or god forbid, false. When data is relayed, it is stored and managed in such a way that makes the person prejudge the conclusion before the facts have all arrived. This in turn creates a paradoxical thing called prejudices that makes hypocrites of us all. The human mind is fallible, but the human will cannot be underestimated, usually prejudices are only held back because of willpower, for the most of us, this willpower is insufficient. The reason for such absurd beliefs like UFOs or ghosts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are much advocation of the bolstering for this willpower in this particular field, we do it via logical thought and critical thinking. By thinking critically, that is, asking loads of questions previously thought unnecessary, will help withhold the analysis of incomplete evidence and make way for new information which might or might not complete the big picture. This practice is not new nor is it hard to execute, but most of us tend to misuse it to force our beliefs onto others by extrapolating facts and emphasizing half-truths in our answers. It is expected of such a method because the information is once again relayed, but it helps alot if you utilize the second tool, logical thought. With critical thinking, you gain information; relayed or not; truth or falsities, about the current situation, which you would immediately place together to sort out. But most of the time we would accept the final result of other people's analysis and be done with it. We are naturally lazy to think, that's just the way it is. What we are doing in such a situation is to compromise our own interpretations, our own thoughts and our own judgement to accept others. This skill is not about the shunning of other ideas, but the creation of your own conclusions that precedes over others, by piecing together information from multiple sources as well as conclusions from several viewpoints, we would be able to make judgements that are independant from others yet more truthful to ourselves than most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not an absolute way to make sure there will be no mistakes, as most cases would disallow any possible person to know the truth because of human perceptions being distorted over the airwaves (chinese whispers indeed). However, every little bit of extra integrity from one person to another helps immensely in the game of communication. I myself advocates both of these skills whole-heartedly, unfortunately I still cannot make completely objective judgements on everything I assume I understand. But I certainly am trying to. I just hope that everyone else can as well. Perhaps one day like minded ones can form a group to crash a UFO Expo. What do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-206286256315639070?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/206286256315639070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=206286256315639070' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/206286256315639070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/206286256315639070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2007/08/fools.html' title='Fools.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-4280701177046674670</id><published>2007-08-02T14:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T14:03:38.842+08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Assasin's Creed.</title><content type='html'>My undershirt sticked to my back from the perspiration, my breathing heavy, my chest rising and falling rapidly. On the contuary, I was ready. Carefully, the knife slid out into my hand, the carved ivory handle in contact with my palm. Too predictable, a held knife must be firmly locked in place, all maneuvers' imaginative movements restricted to the arm. Too limited was my moveset, too obvious my line of attack. This would be my last kill with such an antique method. I was to be accepted into a circle in which my life would start anew. My excitement laid with this vision, a vision that would be realized after this one and final kill. I felt the ivory carvings etched into my palm, my breathing steadied, my heart stopped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moon shone lightly on the finely honed blade of the ivory knife before it plunged sharply into the neck of an elite guard. No sound came from his mouth, shock had not reached his facial expressions, the blade pulled through and severed the guard's trachea and larynx, cutting off all nerve signals to the brain. A successful kill, had any sound escaped from his mouth, any sudden jerks of movement, I would've failed, my creed broken, my esteem shattered. I would accept no less from myself. The final deed was complete, the petty kills will not continue for any longer. Before a drip of blood fell from the tip of the knife, it was wiped away with the hood of the guard. Even a slight detail such as drips of blood will not be overlooked. I shall be perfect. For all my previous kills was. For I know, from this point on, there cannot be any more imperfections, any slight mistake, none that I have done before, will kill me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without touching the dead body, I left, the only evidence of my existence being that deadly wound on my victim's neck. It would've been usual practice to hid the body, I would not have liked the attention showered onto it. No dead body needed the attention. But tonight, the purpose would be different, this body would mark the beginning of a series of killings, one that would strike fear unto my future targets. Fear, it seems, is very effective in destroying common logic, which makes the hunt so much more interesting, challenging. Fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On this night, a new perfect assasin was born.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-4280701177046674670?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/4280701177046674670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=4280701177046674670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4280701177046674670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/4280701177046674670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2007/08/assasins-creed.html' title='An Assasin&apos;s Creed.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-534140206431818437</id><published>2007-07-29T15:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T15:07:07.203+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unemotional.</title><content type='html'>For all these while, I've always alluded that I was somewhat crazy, schizophrenic, mentally deranged, bipolar or any other psychological illness that can strike a man. The reasons for such allusions were simple yet elusive, but I've finally found it, them. Expectations, I'd call that, they're not an actual responsibility, as I've established with myself that obligations only comes with position in an organized group of people. It is a more elaborated version of peer pressure, focusing on the effects of one who does not crumble under the pressure, there's no official medical logs stating it as an illness, but I believe it is something close to it, not a disease, but an impairment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One does not need to be in a group to undergo peer pressure nor does one have to be outside of a group to feel his or her links to the appointed group severed. I myself have been a loner for many years, believing in lies called decency and civil responsibilities, before I've found out that such rules did not apply in life, they only apply to a singular person, that is more specifically, yourself. When others did not care for such decencies, there would still be a need for you to follow these self created rules, you will have to, especially for anyone who wishes to be orderly yet somewhat flakey. These needs would soon crush the person in question, will you continue to follow these self-created rules which reeks of nothing but masochism? Or will he throw away the trawl which has covered his true self for years? For me, the answer is unknown, I kept switching between the two, the lines have been blurred, my experimentation bearing bizzare results varying from two opposite poles of the graph. It is not abnormal, it is merely circumstantial, I switch states when it suits me, to my own gain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, it doesn't matter, these are the unique features that make me, and they shall stay. I once mused that I might be a great assasin, I would leave no trace, no remaining scent. Simply because I am a loner, from birth to death, I will still be one, I have accepted this fact. I will have friends, but only few would accept the terms I give, that I would be left alone. I've preferred to watch them, silently observing, listening, without intruding. Their lives are their own to live. Friends don't watch friends die, I cannot bring myself to recognize that saying as true, what is one to do when the only choice your friend is making are wrong ones? Ignore and watch, the importance of self precedes all others, simply said, let them die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sanity report? I'm not insane, I'm just unemotional towards everything in real life. I've seen, heard, felt too much of falsities, I've lost the real me. These salvaged pieces of intellect and conscience is me now. All innocence is lost, long ago. And I'm just fucking 17. What's one to say when one isn't even allowed to drink? What are the necessary falsities that everyone seems to loathe but do all the time. All people wants the truth, no matter how inconceivable, and that is exactly NOT the thing people are being provided with. I'm fed up, I need straight, edgy painful blows to the ribcage to remind me of how real this world made out of lies is. I've gotta get real, there's no way out of this, I'll have to learn to accept it, join in the crowd and expect myself to fit in by chanting what the crowd likes. To hell with individualism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must be high on crack. The words are not making sense to me. Like a fellow elder has told me, I think to fast and write too little down, I do not have a logical train of thought, it doesn't matter. No one cares enough for anything to do anything about anything. I declare that I shall be eliminated, no more EMO posts from me anymore, from now on you're only going to see a wall of text staring back at you telling you how much fun I had on the weekend licking a popsicle in 35 degrees celsius with no shirt on. Fuck, I'll need one right now. It's hot as heck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-534140206431818437?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/534140206431818437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=534140206431818437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/534140206431818437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/534140206431818437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2007/07/unemotional.html' title='Unemotional.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-5879965915729257050</id><published>2007-07-29T15:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T15:06:27.772+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fazed.</title><content type='html'>Something caught me off-guard. Perhaps something like a masked horse-rider carrying a scythe with the purposeful intent of ripping my spine out with the bloody entrails intact. What happens when you can see your eyes gouged out? Or your gut blowing up like a paperbag filled with air like we used to play? Wonder if anybody really did try freezing someone's hand in liquid nitrogen and smashed it with a hammer in front of the owner's eyes. Would the pain to freeze the arm be too much to bear? Might it be the shattering of the hand that set the soul tumbling to it's inevitable end of a million pieces?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hardly an exaggeration. Just a notation of how someone would feel when he or she have seen the pit of spikes that await his or her feet to step slightly over the edge. Who said that when you reach the bottom the only direction was up? You can surely go down, where hell awaits. Is the realization of the more beautiful than death itself? Perhaps so, perhaps not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fazed means alot of things, but all of which relate to the deterrance of certain actions. I'm fazed, for a lot of things, a lot of decisions, for better or for worse. Seems forever when I thought I could be... crazy. Mayhaps I am crazy. Will come back when assessment of sanity is out. :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-5879965915729257050?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/5879965915729257050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=5879965915729257050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/5879965915729257050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/5879965915729257050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2007/07/fazed.html' title='Fazed.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-8394527635552975342</id><published>2007-04-07T11:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T11:50:22.728+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a... Mice</title><content type='html'>That partial of her name was enough to lay siege on my weak soul. Now that I have reinitiated contact with this girl, only the partial of the name remained intact. Fantasies remained as fantasies, with the intrusion of reality, fantasies will be shattered. Fantasies originate from man's imaginations, when imaginations fail. Man feels distraught. Tis' not a bad thing, lest man falls eternally without struggle into his dreams. I wish not to have the same delusions as Icarus have, Daedalus need not have the last laugh (Though he did warn Icarus. I suggest out of care rather than jealousy.). My fascination for this girl still holds true after the passing of many years when compared to the years I have lived, 3 years is a long time when you only lived 17.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were several... Oddities that I remember distinctly that had happened. All while I was Form 1, because the contact was lost when I was form two. One of them was the lack of audible communication. We rarely spoke. Communication was via a notebook with letters scribbled all over it, I don't remember 80% of what was written, but I do remember I asked her very often (And she to me) whether she wanted sweets, she likes chewing gum for some odd reason. She also brings along some to share, sometimes. If the notebook was still here no doubt it will just evoke a sense of pointless melancholic valour in me. I accept the lost of the memories contained in those papers because I wanted to move on. Seeing her again makes me want to slap myself for losing that small pocketbook. Contradictory? I guess so. I'm like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second one was my constant infatuation with her... errr... Hair. It's weird, but it is the first thing that I notice when I meet anyone of the opposite gender, if she doesn't have nice hair, I stay away. This particular girl was the only one or my peer-age of which the hair I touched. I sound borderline psychotic now. *Mad Laugh*. Of which I actually requested to touch her hair, and proceeded to ask what would've happen if I didn't ask. Now that I think of it, I am crazy. I wonder if I'm cured now. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what. I met her again. I even got her phone number, but I dare not approach. Dangerous little game I'm trying to play, especially when I have the mental capacity of a hamster, minus the cuteness. Will my brain end up as a tiny prune when I get all the emotional and intellgence berjabbles drained out of me? I'm such a peabrain. Someone pray tell me that it's normal to find someone you really like but is (Somewhat) unreachable, because I have such an inferiority complex.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-8394527635552975342?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/8394527635552975342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=8394527635552975342' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/8394527635552975342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/8394527635552975342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2007/04/confessions-of-mice.html' title='Confessions of a... Mice'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-3291774404835912083</id><published>2007-01-29T19:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T19:34:54.184+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Love Story[Experimental]</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;"Sometimes, it takes strength to dream" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dreamer will always wake up and realize what was lost as a tribute to reality. I was such a dreamer. Four years ago, a very fateful day in March, at seven O'clock. I boarded a bus with my home as destination. A Form 1 student, after a long day, in a bus, heading home. As uneventful as it ever can be.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; An empty seat. I walked towards it, only to have a senior from my school hold me off. "There's someone there.". I was confused, but I did not question him, all of this was still new to me, a change in enviroment sometimes does that to people. Funny how an empty seat can nag at you for 45 minutes. When a girl suddenly materialized in the seat, everything was demystified. She was sleeping in a weird, uncomfortable position; at least that's how it looked to me, that enabled her to vanish from immediate view. She had a very small frame, smaller than I was then. She had a simple, clean quality about her, a very neat ponytail with a generic white hair clip holding up her bangs. She had a small, rounded face, her eyes were clear and bright, she had very balanced features. She wore the prefect's uniform for a nearby school, a white shirt and a dark, navy blue skirt. Not much was exceptional nor special about her. There was just an air of simplicity about her that attracted me, might I say, very much.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Who's that?" I asked timidly, I was only thirteen, a very small age. My interest was piqued by the smart and clean look of this girl. My senior was much more than helpful, he introduced me to his friend, this particular girl. The conversation was simple, basic, nothing specific, but through the conversation I had the feeling that the girl was every bit as shy as I was, only the incessant chatterings of my senior broke the ice. Being the inquirer I was, I really failed myself, I returned home that day with only slight information about her, not even her name was in my grasp.&lt;br /&gt; For that particular year, a whole year. It was the same. Work from school did not allow me much time to think about myself. I wasn't exactly a young man looking to score a lady either, there was no reason to socialize, so I didn't. Now I regret every second I had with her that I had kept quiet, every second that I looked away from her face, every second out of her presence. Out of the few conversations I actually initiated with her, I only found out a partial of her name.&lt;/p&gt;PS: Will have more... but... take note that our meeting was neither spectacular nor special -it was to me, enough to be made into a story- to be blessed by the longevity of words, may she be blessed with the beauty for an eternity from my compositions. Wishfully thinking, I hope I can meet her again, perhaps a conversation, perhaps just a glimpse, just a glance... Perhaps, there might be something more; perhaps, there isn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-3291774404835912083?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/3291774404835912083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=3291774404835912083' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/3291774404835912083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/3291774404835912083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2007/01/love-storyexperimental.html' title='A Love Story[Experimental]'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-116789041235778770</id><published>2007-01-04T13:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T14:00:12.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shinnen Omedetou.</title><content type='html'>To myself and to the world. I am officially 17 years old as of 4th of January 2007.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Year 2006 is now officially over. Thank god, that particular year was a damned sleeper hold with a vengeance. I didn't even realize what I did for the past 8 months, much less having the slightest clue on where I'm headed towards in a few years time. Mayhaps I'll actually be able to secure a Social Psy Course in a local varsity or something, it's prolly close to impossible, but possible, none-the-less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm finally going to have my SPM examinations soon, 11 months to be exact. It only means I'm going to update this blog even more scarcely due to the amount of work I have to do. Have to do, not -will- do. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, that's it for today's filler post. Just for kicks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-116789041235778770?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/116789041235778770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=116789041235778770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/116789041235778770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/116789041235778770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2007/01/shinnen-omedetou.html' title='Shinnen Omedetou.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-116131924925834897</id><published>2006-10-20T12:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-20T12:40:49.270+08:00</updated><title type='text'>From Lies to Fallacies, False Believes, Religion, The World.</title><content type='html'>Yes, the world we're living in is a lie, a big, fat, obnoxious, darker than obsidian, incredibly essential, white lie. I don't know whether such a sentence with so much contradiction to itself is actually literately possible, but (if I say) I don't care (I'm lying.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is flat, the authorities believed, and they stuck to it. Many scholars, astronomists lived a rejected life because their ideas were shunned aside, even though evidence was present, very much literally in their faces. Finally, when more people gain this alternate vision of a spherical world (Still The Earth.) and more research is done, authorities have to give in to the facts. The world is spherical. The same happened with "What is the world" aka Universe. Earth was not the center of this star system, not everything is revolving around earth. The scriptures said otherwise. Once again, science prevailed, because it is the truth, it is facts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Religions, scriptures centuries, millenias of age. To me, they are more or less an elaborate lie. It is something for you to believe in, but they are a lie nonetheless. I myself is Christian (This is another chapter of my life. will explain if got time.) Yet I do not believe those miracles performed, those stories, those "Historical" stories. The Bible itself, I believe, have gone through many different stages, from it's purest, untouched form containing pure truths and no lies, to brainwashers to boost confidence and shapes your mindset to believe in "God's Word". Perhaps, they were lies in the first place, scriptures written by humans, no doubt must be in a way affected by the writer's mindset. What makes this even more compelling is the fact that each word in the Bible, was picked carefully and meticulously, to ensure that the religion lives. A religion, polished through hardships, presents a golden trophy for the faith of humanity in god. Yet no one realized that, at the bottom of the trophy, it writes "The most elaborate half-truth ever spun.".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;False believes are, Succubi, demons, UFOs, ESP, the Supernatural, Poltergeists, and the like. These are, in truth, false, not because that they are pointless, but because they are impossible to detect, to find out, to proof, to become a fact. They are unproofable, they are "Fool-proof", not as much as the Holy Words, but to an extent where people will hold on to it till they die, and they spread like wildfire to all corners of the globe, without a pattern, with mutations. Like viruses. A neverending stream of perpetual negative energies, always self sufficient.&lt;br /&gt;Pop-rocks killed Mikey. An urban legend, yet no one really understands why this might've have happened, they just believe, without any sliver of proof. Correct, baseless assumptions and ignorance makes fallacies, no intelligence needed. A misunderstanding of cause and result, a misunderstanding that evolved to uncontrollable mass. A wrongful interpretation mixed with personal bias. A true heart that seeked a lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lies are essential in our lives, because without lies we would not be able to have the faith to live on, yet we let lies to lead our heart. Our heart itself lies, contradict and counters itself, but what can we do? Nothing, absulutely naught can be done, that is the fallibility of the human conscious.&lt;br /&gt;This was made in August, but was not posted, because even to me it seemed offensive. Nonetheless, the internet itself is offensive enough. Public won't mind another offensive post when it's not even read. A falling tree in an empty forest makes no sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: And yes, I lied. This is obviously not a part of my life's "tranquilities". But meh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-116131924925834897?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/116131924925834897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=116131924925834897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/116131924925834897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/116131924925834897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2006/10/from-lies-to-fallacies-false-believes.html' title='From Lies to Fallacies, False Believes, Religion, The World.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-116073823702587660</id><published>2006-10-13T19:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-13T19:17:17.193+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Surprise, an update, There's actually much more that I've written than those that are published here, but they were not published for the same reason everytime, that is, I've encountered my pseudo-split personality affliction again, and again, and again. This time however, is different. I'm pseudo-bipolar now. ;P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I'm really afflicted with these kind of psychosis related diseases, it's more likely that my psychokenetic energies (Similar to those encountered in Silent Hill) projected has changed my perception of the world into a composite of the exact opposites from what is real. Perhaps I -am- crazy. I am not under the influence of illusions or hallucinations (As the title of the blog implies) when I type up each of my many/few posts but more likely, when I actually post in my blog, I am actively undergoing a change of perceptions, world-view and subjective values. Causing the uprise of an opinion, -my- opinion. Most of the time my opinions on most things will not differ much from the initial evaluation I gave it. Hence the pseudo-spilt personality disorder, the views will differ, often times vastly, between each manifestation of my weird thought process, but most of the time they are limited to real world constraints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently. I figured that there are no in-betweens between the realm of light and dark. That particular gray area of neither right nor wrong was always a fantasy. This is different from the "Not part of solution = problem" absolute, it's closer to "Subjective-Objective Perspective". Geddit? So, I've learned to watch and comment on things based on this truth, therefore creating the pseudo-bipolar, views that differ from each other so greatly it's considered as the two extremes. I haven't put the pseudo-bipolar perspective into gear yet, only a few matters that have earned this weird treatnent from my crazy mind, but I intend to use it to my advantage ater on in life. I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, au revoir. I intend on telling you more about this new grid system in my brain when I have more time to finish constructing it. Don't take me seriously though, I'm crazy. :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-116073823702587660?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/116073823702587660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=116073823702587660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/116073823702587660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/116073823702587660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2006/10/surprise-update-theres-actually-much.html' title=''/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-115631585042591061</id><published>2006-08-23T14:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-23T14:50:50.436+08:00</updated><title type='text'>(The Prelude to Disaster) ~Filler Post~</title><content type='html'>Oh, My, Gawd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found 1(!) comment in 1(!) of my posts! I FEEL SO APPRECIATED~! XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm going to give you (The one that posted a comment.) a grand cookie. *Hands Jon a cookie with chips lined up to form the word "grand"*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, thank you! I shall now continue with my post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is a disaster? A disaster is when you can't find the bread to go with your jam, when you can't find the laces to your shoes or when you can't find the most basic and essential necessities of life to go with your overly complex ways of thought. Why such a definition? It is not an official source, it is not even a generally accepted philosophy, yet I am saying such, why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because, a disaster is not the instance where the world is going to end, a disaster is when one loses (Metaphorically) it's most basic structure, it's role, it's actions, it's speech and most of all, it's mind. Disaster is not when the war in Lebanon killed thousands, disaster is not another crappy "Anti-terrorist" policy pushed by the American President, disaster is not the red indices you see on your Bank Account Statements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disaster is what is happening in the minds of people. Disaster is when people lose themselves to the general peers, disaster is when each person loses himself in order to fit in, disaster is when a whole goverment has to change policies to "safeguard homeland security". Why are those disasters? Because disasters, crises and catastrophes are man made, there's a reason why the many furies of mother nature are called "Natural Disasters" you know. ;P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disaster is what you make out of it. The instant you lose yourself to an unfortunate circumstance, it's a disaster, no matter the scale of the event. The moment you pass a bill on initiating a war to respond to a Terrorist act, it's a disaster (Although the scale is much different.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT! I'm not saying that we can avoid disasters... We can't. That's the ironic truth, disasters are completely man-made, yet we couldn't stop making them, simply because... We need them. Disaster is when a basic necessity is lacking, yet disasters itself are necessities. They help the growth of a human's intellectual bank, they cultivate the brightness of that puny little candle we call hope. Where there is darkness there is also light, we must have darkness in order to see light. This is a concept I hold strongly onto, the Yin-Yang theories, the opposites cannot exist without each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here's a post without any point at all, just because I felt like it, I wrote such an article without thinking much of it's grammar, it's articulation nor it's general aesthetics of pretty words. I guess I did alright, I'll give it 5/10. 'Cause even I myself didn't see much of a point in posting this. XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post took: 23 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuki, grey from being trodden on and mixed with grit and mud, has melted, it prays for the day of salvation when the sun is strong enough to shine on it, to embrace Yuki with it's radiant golden rays. To free Yuki's bond from the grit and mud, to let it flow as a freer form, as water, to somewhere better, to somewhere nice, until once again, mother beckons for it to rise in the air and look again, at the lives and lights of the world on a higher perspective. Till then, Yuki will just have to stay on the ground, looking up, eternally contemplating on how it feels like to be so high up, only to do the opposite when it is in the sky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-115631585042591061?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/115631585042591061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=115631585042591061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/115631585042591061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/115631585042591061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2006/08/prelude-to-disaster-filler-post.html' title='(The Prelude to Disaster) ~Filler Post~'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-115467779043432382</id><published>2006-08-04T15:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-04T15:49:50.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, It's an update!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gawdamn&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Not that I have any gripes about anything bad enough to warrant an eternal damnation in the flaming depths of hell. I just felt like it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Back to our post... Oh yes, I'm updating! A week too late, but it's an update anyways. I just thought that there wouldn't be anyone here to care. Well, my thoughts were right. There's no one here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;School has been exceptionally normal as of the last two weeks. No teacher scolded me, none of the activities has backfired and I'm still alive. Thank god. However, I've been thinking alot about the past lately. Something a very nice frenger told me, "I think too fast and store too little." I'm currently learning to store my thoughts on paper now to create a huge backlog for this little space. Soon, I'll tell you my thoughts on Time, Human and Good. :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Do not be keep silent if you are offenced by the next update. Comparing such magnificent items such as Time, People and Good to disgusting items is just what happened to occur in my mind at that moment of time, I do not feel that the negative view I present in my next update is or by any chance close to what really is true, but it is a alternate view nonetheless. If it offends you, pray tell why and what should I do about it, without your input, I will not be able to know what exactly do other people think about it, therefore I would not be able to admit, change and never repeat my mistake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-115467779043432382?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/115467779043432382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=115467779043432382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/115467779043432382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/115467779043432382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2006/08/yes-its-update.html' title='Yes, It&apos;s an update!'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-115295920229175062</id><published>2006-07-15T18:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-15T18:26:42.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Once Again... "Ding~!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Well, after a few months of inactivity, I suddenly felt the urge to write something, from DotA Fanfics to my own (Fanfic) and this blog. Mostly due to my ignorance on the amount I'm actually writing both on paper and electronically. Therefore I'm going to make up for my lack of updates on this blog, at least for a month... I assume that by forcing myself to update this place every few days, I might eventually gain the habit of posting regularly (Hopefully). I might even get some people in here (Unlikely). Although, sadly, this place is devoid of people, it is still the space of which the tranquilities* of my life are written, only through literature (AHEM~!) I can immortalize my thoughts, even though I might soon forget what I thought so many years ago or blogging may go out of trend, my little corner of this 8932786453 sided polygon called internet might still be here (Baseless assumption.).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*: A footnote in a blog? That's really weird. I justify the word "tranquility" (Maybe "happy" might be more apt) by not making posts which record my dismay and/or disagreement on the fairness of life. Who ever claimed life was fair anyways.However tranquil and clear my thoughts are. However smart or however high is my Emotional Quotient, I heavily doubt that I can completely ignore the lopsided fairness of life, I can, however, live with it (Once again, hopefully.).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BMTribute has failed, I've decided to ditch the project as people nowadays are very much more resourceful than I have thought. The BMSes that I release are mostly already quite old and dispersed through the net via more accesible means than a solo user and a crappy file hosting service (A rant, Yousendit sucks.). So instead of posting in BMT, I've decided to post here instead, featuring not much of constructive intellectual property other than yours truly. I have also decided, in a flurry of thoughts when I was sitting there so amazingly quiet on my bed thinking about the temperature, that I should change the direction I'm trying to take in this blog, I've always wanted to document my short periods of ego enchancing (or the opposite) moments in my life. Perhaps not the best way to attract readers, but with this cutesy space so devoid of visitors, I doubt it can get any worse (They can't possibly give me negative visitor counts, can they?). Why bother myself with the concept "The more the merrier"?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the last few weeks I did not play any online games, not O2, not RO, not any other combinations of capital alphanumeric letters. What I did play was Defence of the Ancients with my (Really noobish) Classmates, I owned them, for a few matches, before they gained the newfound knowledge that power is in numbers. I got owned backwards till my pelvis ached from the constant falls off my chair on the floor due to the fact that I'm actually being owned till the point of scariness (Did I suck or did they rock?). Now I'm planning my revenge, I shall improve my communication skills to achieve a higher level of teamwork to conquer their equivalent. I don't think it's actually possible though, I really suck at this particular aspect of team oriented games. Nonetheless, I hope Dota might actually improve my mentality as a player and a gamer, multiplayer games highly depend on teamwork, which is exactly what I lack.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, on Saturday (Friday in the states), I returned to my dearest arcade and the one cabinet I started visiting arcades for: EZ2DJ. It is still the best beatgame I've played so far and it still has the highest integrity of the Holy Trinity principle* of beatgames (Visuals, Music and Artistic Values). To my dismay my skills did not improve. As my skills in O2 has reached it's plateau, so is the fate of my Ez2dj skills (I feared as much). I did not feel sad, nor did I feel disappointed, for it is just a game that I enjoy, not by conquering it, but because of the sheer joy of being able to listen to some quality music (I cannot resist the urge to move my body to the music though) and being able to appreciate the existence of this particular machine, to have contributed much to my memories and experience (In life), this machine had given me some dear friends (A and B are my dearest friends, you know who you are), a few onlookers (N, H, R, Y, just to name a few), a few ememies (I wish not to name any), and most important of all, it gave me a reason to dance when no one's looking, the appreciation of music I savour now, the attention to detail when I face a crisis. It's quite amazing what an arcade machine can bring to you. I thank music, all music, to have brought me up a perfectly fine young gentleman. I also truly and sincerely thank A for providing me with such music, and B for providing an alternative insight into my own life. I hope both of you receives my silent wishes of your wellbeing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*:The Trinity is a pseudo-theory of mine, not proven and not universally true, but I hold on to my beliefs that The Trinity is what makes a beatgame playable and enjoyable.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roadworks. This Monday, work was carried out by the DBKL (Something like a town municipal, I think) to put trees down on the road towards the main street at my place, mainly due to the tree's tendency to bend over and hump the ground on a weekly basis (When there's rain and winds, obviously). I've always appreciated the clean and fresh air that I breathe in and exhale every morning when I head to school, I've always taken it for granted, what I smell now is the smell of rotting green. (As the people that cut down the trees are imprudent enough to leave the foilage there till this point of time.) I do not understand the sadness I feel when I see the bare trunks of these trees, nor do I understand the fact that I feel compassion for trees. I've always thought that trees were a blessing, shielding me from the harsh sun above the equator, giving out oxygen. I never appreciated them. I never thanked them, nor did I ever touched any one of them. I did it once this morning in the deafening silence of darkness (6.30 AM, The sun does not rise early in Malaysia.) and I felt... There were no tingly sensations, no fresh air, no gentle coolness. Nothing that I felt just in the presence of a tree before was present. I do not know what should I feel from this, but I felt a sadness tugging at my thoughts to return to the trees. I did not stay for long in the presence of these deformed trunks. I went to school.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is where I'm going to end today's update, the sudden change in emotion for this article was because of the lengthened time I spent on this particular post. I cannot bring myself to ignore these feelings of sadness that get sparked at the littlest of problems, but I can accept these emotions as proof that I am only human, the thought bring some peace and tranquility to my mind.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I have mentioned earlier, I will continue to update this place, if I don't, feel free to bombard me with nudges on MSN or crazy spams in my e-mail inbox. :P&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-115295920229175062?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/115295920229175062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=115295920229175062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/115295920229175062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/115295920229175062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2006/07/once-again-ding.html' title='Once Again... &quot;Ding~!&quot;'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-114680821278057826</id><published>2006-05-05T13:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T13:50:12.790+08:00</updated><title type='text'>At least I know a few words?</title><content type='html'>If anyone's actually reading, you've noticed there's no experimental fight Pt.II, because I've decided to ditch the scene after noticing that my vocabulary's strength is ridiculous and childlike, most of the time I'm struggling for adjectives, if they are used at all, thus, I will continue to read, in hopes that in some way it will reinforce my my weak wall of words so that it will not crumble under the pressure of an experienced reader. Hopefully, I will be able to come up with a decent piece of fiction soon to see whether my writings have improved. Growth in my english department has really been slow, I can only wish that my puny brain is able to further my grasp on the english language.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-114680821278057826?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/114680821278057826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=114680821278057826' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/114680821278057826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/114680821278057826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2006/05/at-least-i-know-few-words.html' title='At least I know a few words?'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-114654251057998703</id><published>2006-05-02T11:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T12:01:50.590+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes, I feel sad.</title><content type='html'>Sad for being there, sad for not being there.  I feel sad because here I am, posting once again because of boredom, because I'm pissed, because I'm high. I'm sad because I haven't visited this place for close to half a year. I wish I could dedicate myself to this blog soon, and I wish people to be dedicated to my blog too, but until now, the hits been from no one but myself. Sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In another part of town. I'm currently entering a new low in destroying my intelligence, I'm rarely visiting school, I go truant. I'm fucking myself up pretty badly lately, I just hope that I don't live the rest of my life this way, or I'll end my own pitiful life before the instinct to live takes over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-114654251057998703?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/114654251057998703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=114654251057998703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/114654251057998703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/114654251057998703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2006/05/sometimes-i-feel-sad.html' title='Sometimes, I feel sad.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-113516462791892518</id><published>2005-12-21T19:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T19:32:26.516+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fight Scene 1</title><content type='html'>Message: I just did this to see if I could write fight scenes, it's a little short, but I really don't know how I could coordinate a fight scene any longer. It's set in after some events in a... Fanfiction? I wrote, which coincidentally had this white haired guy in it. But other than that, it's my own creation, the fanfic, I mean. So is it a fiction? or a fanfic?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 2 will be in a library. Stay tuned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Experimental~ Fight Scene. Part . I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have the psychological advantage over this brat. His reluctance to train had already weakened himself to a certain extent. If his temper is ignited, it would aid in battle. Demon child or not, he is in no position to defeat me, now or ever." I kept to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we stand, in the arena where he and his brother once stood and battled. "I'd have to say I'm impressed with this world we're in." Eight pedestals rose up at different levels from the ground. On them, are the 8 angels of death. They stand around the arena, looking in from the eight directions to the center of the stage with their stony gaze; their frozen posture mocks the futility of human's abilities to make them fall. Black marble lines the floor, their ends are also all living creatures', for unless the creature knew how to fly, they would die a neverending death, falling and falling... The marbles reflect the dying red glow, from the horizon of the sun and the reddening sky with a black tint, as if to swallow up the remnants of light from this dawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This arena tells a tale of the growing evil within the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let's start." I told my opponent. He fashioned a red trenchcoat with black denims; his white hair an amazing contrast to his coat; his muscles bulging, veins pumping in anticipation of the forecoming fight; his sword, however, seems huge even for a man of his frame, but I've seen it in action before, it's deadliness can only be compared to his master's control of the sword. The Demon's Edge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, he dashed towards me, sword first and fully extended, aimed at my body. I was surprised but I did not slow down. I jumped forward, higher and faster with the aid of the wind sprites, I executed a somersault in the air, I would eventually land and face his back. I took my whip of the beltclip it was residing in and set my battle plans into motion. The whip unfurled like a coiled snake and wrapped itself around the Demon's Edge. A pull, and I'm flying towards him. Acting quickly, he turned around, flinging his sword to the back while doing so, accelerating my descent towards himself. My boots are already in contact with his face before his let go of the sword and held his guns out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mine was already out. He let off 3 shots of demon energy; I let off 3 of my own equivalent. He backed off; so did I, my whip unwrapped itself from the sword and was once again in my control. I shot another 4 rounds before I could clip back my whip and take out my other gun; He shot 3 rounds while reflecting my shots with his sword, both revolvers in hand, I deflected his shots. We stood even further apart from each other now. He sheathed his sword and took out his other gun. We started exchanging fire, his red demon energy versus my blue spiritual energy. We ran from one end of the arena to the other, finally admitting that we'll not go down from gunfire, we kept our guns and once again went back to melee weapons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, we exchanged, blows this time. I got in first with my whip's extra range; he deflected the blow without problem. He swung his sword high when in reach; I ducked. After several such episodes, he decided it was time to end the fight and put all his strength for a killing blow. He leveled out his sword and swung. I was indifferent. Acting as well as thinking, I again wrapped my weapon around his, and backflipped out of harm's way. Knowing well he used up most of his strength, I pulled hard, drawing the sword flying out of his hand. The sword flew like an arrow to one of the lower statues, stabbing firmly into its skull. I was pulled along by the sword's momentum, regaining control of my whip way too late -too close- to the statue. I shifted my weight and ran up the body of the figure to reach the sword and got on top of it.&lt;br /&gt;I now stood as close as I ever could to the Demon's Edge, I was standing on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm standing on your sword. You want it back?" I asked mockingly. I received no reply; he extended his hands, palms up, towards the direction of the sword and started concentrating. The sword under me started shaking violently; he was using his demonic link with the sword to extract it from the stone. Without hesitation, I jumped. My whip coiled around the neck of the petrified angel and I slid down safely to the ground. Demon's Edge is now extracted, even though its flight path is haphazard, spinning wildly as it goes through the air; I have no doubt in the user's ability to regain control over it, I had to disrupt its path. I drew my gun and shot, 1, 2, 3 shots. The sound of a bullet hitting metal resounded in the air. My luck. The bullet hit the sword just right when it's close enough to its bearer, changing the direction of its spin and leaving a gash in his face. He was fazed but regained his composure immediately. He grabbed his sword and rushed towards me. The dash evolved into a lunge. I merely evaded sideways from such an uncounted attack; he went right through me, stabbing deeply into the stone base of the statue. I was right behind him after his attack. I noticed that he lost his will to fight, he was sword holding on to his sword stuck in the stone but standing upright now. "This is pointless. Come back after you have the heart to." I said with a hint of sympathy. "How could a man with such amazing powers be turned into an untamed cub? He doesn't even have the mind of a lion anymore." I kept such a disappointment to myself. I walked up to his back, laid a hand on it, and hugged him tightly, out of sympathy, maybe. "Don't be a fool, Lady's death wasn't for nothing. We closed the Gates of Hell." That was as much of a reassurance I could give him. I released my grip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I walked away. Back into the portal which we came through, to this place which foretells doom; or mayhaps everything was predestined.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-113516462791892518?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/113516462791892518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=113516462791892518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113516462791892518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113516462791892518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2005/12/fight-scene-1.html' title='Fight Scene 1'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-113273769987657827</id><published>2005-11-23T17:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T17:21:39.883+08:00</updated><title type='text'>System Failure.</title><content type='html'>My first attempt at trying to one-shot Shadow of The colossus failed. Reason? My PS2 failed to load colossus #12. Result? Pain. Pain shot through my head like a bolt of lightning, the feeling of disbelieve rendered me nearly unconscious. The next thing you know, I was back on my feet and walking among the emerald green ruins as Wander. Slamming down one colossus after another until my brain warned me for meltdown at 12am. In Exactly 1 hour and 48 minutes, I managed to defeat 6 colossi. After which I continued on today and destroyed another 6 in 2 hours. If my approximation is correct. This walk will within this beautiful world will end with another two hours of gameplay. I would then follow up with at least another 20 hours of gameplay to unlock everything in this game. I have not been tempted to do so for many gaming seasons and I'm glad that a game has been able to make me feel so sastified as to finished it again for another 3 times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Generally I'm just chilling out in my own way. Yuki is melting~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-113273769987657827?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/113273769987657827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=113273769987657827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113273769987657827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113273769987657827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2005/11/system-failure.html' title='System Failure.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-113253104322797189</id><published>2005-11-21T07:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T07:57:23.233+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fergawdsache.</title><content type='html'>I'm actually playing Maplestory's South East Asia server. This is what I do when I'm not playing Lufia at home. Look for me, a magician with the name YukiIjuin if you're interested in knowing me, I don't know when I'm going to be online, neither do I know when I might not play the game, so don't put your hopes up in trying to get some real time flames ignited with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-113253104322797189?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/113253104322797189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=113253104322797189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113253104322797189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113253104322797189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2005/11/fergawdsache.html' title='Fergawdsache.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-113246640634116123</id><published>2005-11-20T13:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-20T14:00:06.346+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Short Fuse.</title><content type='html'>I found out that I have a very short fuse. My Harvest Moon venture lasted around 8 hours of game time, equalling to around 1 and a half year of in-game time. I stopped playing and gave up after a hurricane hit my 45x45 square grass field right before autumn, which means death for most grass and my livestock as well. I got mad, and gave up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to replay Lufia II: Rise of the Sinistrals after giving up on Harvest Moon, and ended up getting hooked to the ancient cave, right now I'm on my 3rd time through the cave and 3 Iris treasure in. I've always wonder why does the Ancient Cave get me hooked, but I could never figure out why. In any case, best course of action for me now would be just destroy the Ancient Cave and be on with my quest to defeat the Sinistrals. I just hope I don't give up because some catastrophe struck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-113246640634116123?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/113246640634116123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=113246640634116123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113246640634116123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113246640634116123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2005/11/short-fuse.html' title='Short Fuse.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-113238454756338853</id><published>2005-11-19T15:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-19T15:15:47.570+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Harvest?</title><content type='html'>Cute. I'm replaying Harvest Moon on the SNES, on an emulator of course, and once again found the fun of earning your rewards. Going through the same routine every in-game day and doing the same thing over and over again for 6 hours is tired, but rewarding, because I've gained myself a wife, a horse and a cow. Then again, it isn't real life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-113238454756338853?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/113238454756338853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=113238454756338853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113238454756338853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113238454756338853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2005/11/harvest.html' title='Harvest?'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-113229314662443537</id><published>2005-11-18T13:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T13:53:47.626+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I've thought about what I've said earlier regarding blogging as a fad for awhile now, and it's still true. Blogging, is a fad(That brings no harm.), and I'm following it for reasons of my own. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For one, I have to improve my written english a whole lot, because my written english blows fishes out of water. My english is, in actual fact, better than most of my peers, but it is still not a fraction of what I want to achieve, I am still unable to make compositions which drag people into the story or ponder about the very lives they are living. I have not yet been able to create an article which might serve well to inspire people, for it is my goal to inspire through words and speech, in any language. English being an international language which is understood to a certain extent in all countries, therefore, is a good start for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason number 2. I very well need a place where everybody can read and criticize my English, and this is where the power of internet comes in, with a blog I am able to publish all my works of fiction and whatnots to all corners of the globes where people can read them and give comments, to which I will appreciate with all my heart, because appreciating comments and accepting criticism is the best way to improve certain aspects that I might have not paid attention to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reasons' end. The last and the ending reason of my blog being formed is because of my thoughts, and the need to store them somewhere private yet open to all, obviously not my mind, and so I've chosen a blog as a place to be able to voice out my thoughts. Perhaps I might intrigue people with them (My thoughts.) or maybe make disagreeing people swear in disgust, nonetheless, the internet seems to be an amazing place to put thoughts of one person out there in order to receive many, and I greatly appreciate any thoughts you have upon my thoughts, with a lucky stroke I might be able to increase my amount of perception towards the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-113229314662443537?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/113229314662443537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=113229314662443537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113229314662443537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113229314662443537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2005/11/reasons.html' title='Reasons'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19060204.post-113223037512992790</id><published>2005-11-17T20:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T20:26:15.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Beginning.</title><content type='html'>So I'm officially a blogger now? Or am I just following an irresistible fad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter, now that I have me own blog, I'm going to post several things here, such as: Stories I find interesting; Short/Long fictions that I've been working on; Speeches that I've done and several others. Maybe if I find this space cozy enough I'll post my thoughts about everything here. So, here a new start, maybe a better start.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19060204-113223037512992790?l=yukiijuin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/feeds/113223037512992790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19060204&amp;postID=113223037512992790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113223037512992790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19060204/posts/default/113223037512992790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yukiijuin.blogspot.com/2005/11/new-beginning.html' title='A New Beginning.'/><author><name>Yuki Ijuin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18126423077272858929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
